


The Reverie: Or, Regret in Her Malicious Deed

by the_lady1823



Category: Original Work
Genre: 19th Century, Arson, Character Death, F/M, Gothic, Historical Accuracy, Historical Dress, Historical References, Literary References & Allusions, Memoirs, Murder, Piano, Tea, Victorian, Waltzing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-21
Updated: 2020-05-21
Packaged: 2021-03-02 20:22:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 475
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24302836
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/the_lady1823/pseuds/the_lady1823
Summary: An anonymous Lady recollects her lost and murdered love.
Relationships: Original Female Character/Original Male Character
Comments: 2
Kudos: 3





	The Reverie: Or, Regret in Her Malicious Deed

**Author's Note:**

> A fictional memoir heavily inspired by the Bronte's Gothic novels. I recommend reading this piece to the Second Movement (Waltz) of Hector Berlioz's "Symphonie Fantastique."

Within, sable ashes marred the once brilliant damask wallpaper and ornate friezes. A chilling zephyr ambushed the shattered windows and lacerated my skin. Silence and no more. Droplets of tears ran down my cheeks while the solemn portraits residing in gilded frames stared disapprovingly at my pallid, unbecoming figure.  
A pianoforte lay charred and mangled beside the once-lushly embroidered sofa. Ever and anon a familiar tune would arise then fade, and erelong I was shrouded in an opulent haze… 

Then the elegant concertos began to issue from the instrument, and guests in elaborate evening attire applauded softly again to the renowned Lady. Indeed! I was regarded as the Lady of the Ebony and Ivories, for my fingers swept through the keys like an albatross gliding across the sky. He took great delight in my playing. Oh, that blasted, saccharine gentleman!

There I was in my best gown of stygian navy trimmed with yards of furbelows, in his arms, spinning to the melody of the orchestra. His mien was abhorrently sweet- I reached for his cheek but could only feel thin air. Distant words echoed, indiscernible, but surely were from his lips. Perchance he did profess love, but I was never easily swayed. He verily bethought himself so gallant, so dashing; therewith I knew it was a ploy, all a ploy to acquire me.  
Then we were gyrating, going around and around relentlessly as we descended further into this sick delusion…

The mantlepiece clock was frozen in time at half-past two- that damned, cursed, vile hour! He sat opposite; legs crossed, chin high and assumed an orgulous air. Ticking, ticking. It was inevitable. Anon he knelt down and extended his hand towards me. His handsome visage began to distort into a grotesque amalgamation of the boundless fears in my heart. It was but a veil of insubstantiality; behind the gruesome mask was a vacant chasm of black corruption.

Wherefore did I let my mad convictions take control of me! I felt the rutilant flames beckoning for death- alas, it was not mine they reached for! Amongst the blaze I cackled and contorted as he succumbed to the fire of tenebrous passion. I savoured his hoarse, agonising wails which rung futilely through the hall. The last I beheld of him was his body perishing to the immense heat. I sat without, as a triumphant Bertha Mason, on the damp lea watching the manor crumble into inky ashes.

Oh, what dolour now consumes my heart as I walk once more in this desolate hall! He is now gone, gone forever, buried under fuliginous ruins. I longed for his ardour, his intimacy, his affection, which no other soul could give me. Only he could have loved such a temerarious woman as I. But it cannot be undone. So I went thither to his tarnished sepulchre and bid him adieu.


End file.
